Shrouded in Lore
by Lady Beatrice and Mr Darcy
Summary: During the unaccounted years between Tom Riddle's disappearance and the rise of Lord Voldemort, the future Dark Lord traveled the world seeking the deepest secrets of dark magic and uncovering places thought lost to time. Harry is raised far from Britain, unaware of the epic journey through mythology and legend awaiting him in his battle against Voldemort. AU. Pairings undecided.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: Neither Mr. Darcy nor Lady Beatrice are published authors, meaning they don't own the rights to anything, anywhere. From this statement, we can draw two conclusions: 1) Nothing we write here is officially canonical. 2) We receive no monetary compensation for this story. If you wish this was canon, or wish we were getting paid, thank you. :)

~~~~~~~~~~ 1976 ~~~~~~~~~~

The Dark Lord Voldemort stood impassively watching his loyal servant, Regulus Black, work with his house elf to complete the protective enchantments surrounding a pedestal, on top of which rested a softly glowing feather. He was very satisfied - finding the remains of the ancient, but long-abandoned dark haven known as Xibalba was difficult - but if it had been difficult for even the great Lord Voldemort to breach the still active defenses of the lair, so it would be for other, lesser wizards and witches. With the addition of the special ward Regulus was adding, the feather, with it's ever changing colors, would be untouchable. He was certain he had chosen his protections well.

Regulus stood back from the section of runes he had just finished inscribing into the floor of the foreboding cavern. He'd been working with Kreacher for hours and he was beginning to feel magical exhaustion lapping at the edges of his mind, but inwardly, he was delighted. All his studying and research had been acknowledged at last - the Dark Lord had noticed his talents and had brought him to this cavern to help protect a rare magical artifact. Regulus glanced back at Kreacher, who had just finished powering the last rune. It glowed a sullen reddish-gold before dimming until it was barely discernible on the rocky floor.

Regulus then spoke to the house elf, "You've done well, Kreacher. Your assistance is no longer needed. Go stand with the Dark Lord."

Kreature happily nodded at the praise and went to stand next to the imposing wizard who was waiting at the edge of the cavern. With a tremor of excitement, Regulus stepped up to the circle and began to carefully carve the last rune. Once he finished, he would have three minutes to leave the circle before the trap sprang into existence.

Kreacher waited with all his attention focused on his master. Kreature was pleased to have been able to help his beloved Master Regulus with such an important spell for the Dark Lord who Mistress Walburga admired so much. But as soon as the last rune started to glow, Kreacher knew something had gone wrong. The magic was building much faster than Master Regulus had planned. With a shudder, Kreacher desperately looked up at Master Regulus as he unsuspectingly walked towards them.

"My Lord, the enchantment is fina..."

Lord Voldemort hissed in annoyance as Regulus stopped dead only a few feet away from the edge of the enchantments. Kreacher rent the air with a high pitched wail as he realized his master was trapped.

"Be quiet, elf! You're giving me a headache." Voldemort snapped as he kicked Kreacher into silence. Voldemort drew his wand and examined the newly formed wards. Finding them as strong as he had hoped, he stepped away satisfied. The loss of the boy was regrettable - his specialty was very rare, and it was inconvenient to lose him before he could truly take advantage of his talents. However, the most important thing was to keep the location of Xibalba secret, along with the treasure.

"Elf! Remember your master's orders- you are to tell no one of this location or what transpired this night."

With a slow nod towards the seemingly unmoving form of one Regulus Black, Voldemort turned away and headed back through the twisting tunnels which had first brought him here. Kreacher remained behind, weeping at the loss of his beloved Master Regulus, his cries echoing unheard through the dark, empty cavern.

~~~~~~~~~~ 1980 ~~~~~~~~~~

Albus sat in a room above the bar of the Hog's Head Inn. It had been a cold, miserable day; the sky seemed to constantly drip, but never quite have the impetus to really rain. That day in turn had become a cold, miserable night with no more inclination to stop dripping than it had when the sun was attempting to shine. The conversation he was completely tuned out of was going no better - one Sybill Trelawney, great-great-Granddaughter to the legendary seer Cassandra Trelawney, was interviewing for a position as Hogwart's Divination professor. Albus stifled a yawn and decided to go with what his gut had told him when the post fell open - it was time to abolish the subject of Divination. Minerva would be delighted to hear that the 'wooly' subject was at last gone from the curriculum. He held up a hand, already mentally reallocating the Divination budget, to stop the prattle coming from the woman with her face glued to the crystal ball. Then he stood up, vanishing the plush**, **purple armchair he'd been sitting in.

"Thank you for taking the time to come meet me Ms. Trelawney, but I'm afraid you're not quite suitable for Hogwarts. I wish you the best of luck finding employment elsewhere."

As soon as the words had left his mouth, Albus silently groused at fate's sense of irony. The lights in the room dimmed, and Sybill's eyes rolled back into her head before locking onto the crystal ball; this time unfocused and wild. When she began to speak, it was not with the deceptive modulations previously used. Instead her voice was much deeper, and completely monotone.

"_The ones with the power to challenge the Dark Lord will arise: the innocent mother who rides on wings of fire…_"

A noise in the hallway alerted Albus to the presence of an uninvited guest, and he hurriedly cast several privacy charms to ensure the rest of the words fell on no ears save his own. It seems Minerva was going to be disappointed after all.

~~~~~~~~~~ S ~~~~~~~~~~

In the hallway, Snape cursed silently to himself. Of all the inopportune times for an inebriated fool to stumble into the hallway, this had to be the worst. Still, the Dark Lord would want to know of a prophecy identifying potential adversaries. Snape would receive less punishment for an incomplete prophecy than a delayed message. Perhaps, if he couched it properly, the Dark Lord would reward him for his diligence. With that in mind, he quickly apparated away before Dumbledore could discover his presence.

~~~~~~~~~~ Y ~~~~~~~~~~

_**Daily Prophet - September 8th 1980**_

_**You-Know-Who: The Ginger Scourge!**_

_By Thaddeus Skeeter_

_You-Know-Who has plagued us with terror for the past year, and we never know when or where he will strike next. However, this intrepid reporter has news from the auror office on a new pattern that has emerged in the reign of terror!_

_You-Know-Who has begun attacking red-headed witches with never-before-seen focus and ferocity. This June, the red-headed wife of the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Mr. Barty Crouch, was attacked and killed in her own home. You-Know-Who then proceeded to mount an assault against the predominantly red-headed Bones family during an otherwise peaceful family dinner. The only survivors of this assault were formidable auror Amelia Bones, who was eventually able to force You-Know-Who into a retreat, and her niece, Susan, who is still but a toddler. The rest of the family was slaughtered._

_Then, last month, You-Know-Who attacked the Weasley family while the father, Arthur Weasley, was working at the Ministry of Magic. Thankfully, the red-headed Molly Weasley and her seven children escaped due to Mrs. Weasley's two heroic brothers, Gideon and Fabian Prewett, giving their lives to buy her time. The Weasley family is currently in hiding at an undisclosed location. We wish them the best, and send Mrs. Weasley our condolences._

_Most recently, there have been a spate of red-headed murders in Northern Ireland, and while we have no proof, this reporter suspects that You-Know-Who may have moved on from Britain to attack the less well-defended, but very red-headed, witches in Northern Ireland._

_Why is You-Know-Who targeting these witches? Is it part of some dark ritual?! Has he taken a sudden dislike to the color red?! Did a leprechaun offend him?! We may never know. _

_Regardless of his reasons, we urge any red-headed witches reading this article to take extra precautions with their safety until further notice. Stay safe, readers. _

~~~~~~~~~~ 1981 ~~~~~~~~~~

The green flaring of the fire faded behind the last departing guest as Bathilda Bagshot stared at the chaos that was formerly her living room. Halloween parties with her remaining classmates were always memorable, but some of her friends obviously still hadn't learned to hold their firewhiskey; one of the shot classes looked liked it had been stuck to the ceiling, and several of the butterbeer bottles were dancing a jig around the room. Bathilda sighed and began levitating scattered glasses of firewhiskey and butterbeer to her kitchen before she remembered her plans to visit the Potters and wish them a "Happy Halloween" before they put young Harry to sleep for the night. James and Lily didn't get many chances to get out since they had gone into hiding, but thankfully James' rambunctious friends, Peter and Sirius, had brought her over for little Harry's first birthday, and she'd been visiting regularly ever since.

Levitating a ferret from the corner and transfiguring it back into a glass, Bathilda prepared to leave. Donning a jacket and waving her wand to extinguish the lights, she set out towards the Potter's house. Excited muggle children in ridiculous costumes swirled around her as she carefully made her way towards her destination.

"Mommy! Mommy! Can I be a troll like Timmy next year!?" exclaimed one over-enthusiastic muggle child with candy smeared all over his face. Bathilda followed the child's finger to 'Timmy', and internally scoffed. The boy looked nothing like a troll. Too green, too thin, and the ears were all wrong. Bathilda sniffed; it seemed like the only part that boy had right was the horrible odor. She hoped it was part of the costume and not the boy's usual smell.

As she approached the edge of the Potter's property**,** she heard a loud crash and felt a shock wave bowl into her. Regaining her bearings, she noticed the smoke rising from the Potter's home. Knowing no muggle would be able to break the Fidelius charm to help, Bathilda, with surprising agility for her advanced age, drew her wand and started running. As she ran through the hole which had once been the front door, she noticed the splintered ceiling letting in the starlight. Distracted by the destruction, she almost stumbled over James Potter's mangled remains in the atrium. Taking a breath as she felt tears welling, she dashed up the stairs, hoping against hope that Harry and Lily were still alive. She burst into the nursery, and then froze, letting the tears fall as she gazed upon Lily's unmoving_,_ beautiful face. Leaning against the wall, she tried to catch her breath as her emotions slipped away from her.

"Baba!" Bathilda's eyes shot up as she at last noticed the sole survivor of this ghastly night. "Baba!" Harry called out again, reaching in Bathilda's direction. Bathilda gathered her wits about her and walked to the crib, stepping overthe debris - the result of what must have been a large explosion. She picked up the boy, and noticing the blood flowing down his face, examined him for injuries. She found only a single cut on his forehead and she lifted her wand, sighing in relief.

Touching it to his forehead, she softly incanted, "_Episkey_". She frowned when the cut failed to close and tried once more. Failing again, her frown deepened. The scar must not have been caused by debris; only dark magic would resist healing charms. A flick of her wand later, and the blood was cleaned off little Harry's face, and a transfigured bandage was winding its way around his head. It wasn't safe to stay in Godric's Hollow; the minions of You-Know-Who who had attacked the Potters would soon be missed, and more would likely follow. She held the boy close to her chest and hurried quickly back to the stairs. As they moved, young Harry's eyes never left his mother's still form.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Bathilda turned the boy's face away from the remains of his father. However, when they exited the house, Harry reached backwards: "Mama! Dada!" Bathilda patted Harry on the back, shushing him, hoping he wouldn't be heard over the sounds of the muggle festivities. Still, the cries continued, and she realized that he probably had never been out of the house before without his parents. As she continued to walk away, Harry's terrified wails got louder and more frantic, "MAMA! DADA!" until he was entirely unintelligible. Bathilda, realizing that Harry wouldn't quiet without his parents, reached up with a flick of her wand and whispered "_Somnus_", sending Harry to sleep. Her vision blurred with tears, Bathilda then cast a disillusionment charm, crossed the bounds of the Fidelius and apparated away from a street full of oblivious muggles.

~~~~~~~~~~ Author's Notes ~~~~~~~~~~

Lady Beatrice and I have been bouncing ideas around about what we would like to see in a Harry Potter fanfiction for quite some time now, and we recently decided to put pen to paper (Or fingers to keyboard, as the case may be.) We will do our best to write a coherent, entertaining narrative, but please leave us reviews with any suggestions you may have - they may make it into future chapters.

This chapter highlights our major points of departure from canon. In general, you can assume that everything we don't mention happens roughly in line with canon.

Thanks for reading,

Mr. Darcy


	2. Hiding Harry

A/N In the interest of forestalling questions, yes, Mr. Darcy and I do know how to conjugate English verbs. Bathilda Bagshot speaks the way she does with a reason, and if we're lucky enough, this story will continue long enough for us to explain more fully. :)

Lady Beatrice

Chapter 1: An Orphaned Boy

Appearing outside the wards of Hogwarts, Bathilda made her way across the grounds she remembered from her own years there, so long ago. Young Albus was the headmaster here now, and she knew he was the only one powerful and well-connected enough to help her protect Harry. She'd lost too many of her friends in the war with Grindelwald; she owed it to the younger generations to try and keep them safe from the new Dark Lord.

The large doors into Hogwarts seemed to remember her as she approached, and they swung inward at a gentle swish of her wand. Still disillusioned, she walked through the castle ignoring the rambunctious sounds from the traditional Hogwarts Halloween feast. Finding the gargoyle which marked the entrance to Albus' quarters, she remembered the last time she'd been to visit her friend. If she recalled correctly, the password had been some kind of Muggle candy. Well, she'd seen plenty of that in Godrics Hollow tonight.

"Banana Splits? Black Jack Taffy? Astro Pops? Cinnamon Toothpicks? Atomic Fireballs? Licorice Bears? Cherry Sours?"

The last one caused the gargoyle to swing aside, and Bathilda gratefully climbed the stairs up to the office. She tiredly trudged past Fawkes' on his perch, ignoring the whirring, buzzing madness that was Albus' desk, and continued up the staircase in the back of the office to Albus's living quarters. Several of his favourite plush, purple armchairs were sitting by the cosy fire, and Bathilda gratefully sank into one. She put baby Harry down on the carpet and noticed his scar was still slowly oozing blood. Frowning, she cleaned his face up again with a flick of her wand. Exhausted both by her exertions and tumultuous emotions, she slowly drifted off to sleep by the warmth of the fire.

~~~~~~~~~~ Y ~~~~~~~~~

Albus Dumbledore was delighted with the way the feast was progressing. The annual food fight had just begun and Sybill Trelawney had deigned to come down from her tower, claiming there was so much magic in the air tonight that her inner eye was going to get clouded even in her tower. As it was, Minerva and Sybill were having a lively squabble at the end of the head table about Minerva's tea leaves symbolizing an imminent, torrid romance. Their volume was only rivaled by the noise of the ongoing food fight. Yes, a perfect Halloween feast. He surreptitiously escaped from the Great Hall before Minerva got bored with Sybill and decided that he should stop the rest of the fun.

Turning around the corner, Albus was surprised to find Fawkes waiting for him on the gargoyle. Today was the day before his burning day, which usually meant he spent the entire day sleeping. Something bad must have happened for Fawkes to be waiting for him. He offered Fawkes his shoulder and muttered the password. Up in his office he was immediately distracted by some of the whirring contraptions his desk. Someone had snuck into Hogwarts, the Potter's had been attacked, and the charmed unicorn plushie he'd been using to keep track of Voldemort's growing powers had melted. But before he could floo anyone or summon Minerva to help, Fawkes pecked at his ear and then flew up the stairs into his private rooms. Trusting his faithful phoenix, Albus followed it up the stairs.

He was astonished to see his old History of Magic teacher, Professor Bagshot, in one of his plump chairs. No, Bathilda, he admonished himself. She'd told him on his 100th birthday that it showed her age too much to have him call her 'professor'. She lived in Godric's Hollow with the Potters - was that why she was here? He noiselessly sat down in the chair opposite her, only to startle at the sight of the sleeping infant on the floor being watched by Fawkes. The noise of his movement caused Professor Bagsh - Bathilda to wake up. She sighed in relief.

"Albus, I will not want to interrupted the feast, but I had to going somewhere with little Harry, and with all the deaths I not know who to trust. Yet I can not just leave him there amidst all the chaos and not knew if any of them were go to coming back…"

The aged headmaster gently held up his hand to stop the flow of words. When teaching history, his old professor was quite articulate, but when it came to the present she always seemed to get things jumbled up. Today it was too critical and too time sensitive for him to patiently sort it all out.

"_Accio Pensive_"

Bathilda sighed as the pensive came flying into the room. She didn't regret her choice to study history and all the historical magic that had entailed, but the price of that powerful magic was heavy. She would be unable to accurately or articulately explain recent events for the remainder of her life. It was irritating at times, and some people called her batty because of it, but she didn't mind. People who knew her understood this had been the cost of the magic needed to write all those books, and people who didn't could be ignored. As Albus held the pensive, she copied her memories into the silver basin and let him take the trip alone. One Death Eater attack was more than enough for a day.

Warned by the silver bell on his desk which now looked like it had been scorched in fire, Albus had already known that the Potter house was going to be in shambles. Having been blasted with all manner of hexes and curses, the foyer where James had died was completely devastated. Albus knew the battle must have been fierce, with his student fighting not only for his own life, but the life of his family. His dismembered body grotesquely testified to his failed Bathilda up the stairs, he was transfixed by the room. Something about it...very strong magic had wrecked the Pottery nursery, but the source was unfamiliar to him and that bothered him immensely. The fact that the Potter boy had survived the maelstrom intrigued him, as did the fact that the mark etched on the boy's forehead resisted magic. Could the boy absorb magic? As he watched Bathilda leave he realized this was unlikely - she had spelled him to sleep easily enough.

Fascinated, he came back out of the memory to see Fawkes shed a single tear over the boy. As the drop fell onto the boy's forehead, the cut which had still been oozing blood slowly healed to form a thin scar. Albus hid a small chuckle. It seems his pet liked the child. But what was to be done with him? James Potter had no siblings; a common problem among pureblood families. But Lily was a muggle-born...she'd had a sister, hadn't she?

"The child cannot stay in the wizarding world, Bathilda. Voldemort's followers will not let anyone associated with their master's downfall escape. Lily Potter's muggle sister, Petunia, has a son the same age as Harry; I believe she could be persuaded to take the child. I could erect some powerful wards around the house based on their blood ties. That would keep the boy safe."

"No, Albus. No love there. Always hating Lily did Petunia. She was surely hating the boy as well. But if he cannot be safe in the British magical world, I will be dead and take him away to lived among wizards elsewhere."

"If you're suggesting that we fake your death to allow you to take Harry, I don't agree. If he stays in the wizarding world, he should stay with one of his godparents. Since Sirius seems to have betrayed us all, we should leave him with Mary MacDonald, his godmother."

Bathilda looked away from Albus into the fire place. "Exactly! We didn't know who we would trust. Mary may just as easily is a traitor as well! I will be the best choice. We could not be trusting anyone else."

"Harry will need a family, Bathilda, and you are hardly spry enough to care for him in place of a mother, father and siblings. I know how much you've loved being around the young Potters after knowing the family for so long, but I don't see you giving Harry any chance at being normal."

Bathilda sighed, silently agreeing with Albus, and turned back from the fire to look at her one time student. Behind him many old, magical books sat on the shelves waiting for someone to read them. A few titles caught her eye, and she was reminded of a book that might help them solve their problem. "How about this; you has the registry for magical children in England for sending acceptance letters to when they turned 11. We can looked at it and finding muggle families with other magical children his age. Then, we can asked them to taken Harry and leave England. He can growing up as a wizard, but with a muggle family, and not in England. I going with them, under a new name to helping them and looked after the child."

Albus looked at his strange old teacher. He would prefer to keep the boy close and keep an eye on him, but it hadn't worked out very well the last time he'd tried to sort out an orphan's life. Perhaps leaving him in Bathilda's care would be for the best. After all, he had a Dark Lord to clean up after and that wouldn't leave him much time to check in on Harry. Remembering his whizzing, buzzing desk, he realized he had other things to look into tonight, including deciphering how Harry had survived that night.

"I like that idea, Bathilda. We can look at the list of muggleborns in the morning. As it is, you've had a long night. You should get some rest. I'll go examine the ruins of the Potter's Cottage more thoroughly and arrange for your unfortunate demise. Is your magic still strong enough to make a doppelganger?"

At Bathilda's nod, Albus transfigured the carpet into a cradle for Harry and split his bed in half, and the two of them walked over to one of the halves. Bathilda lay down on the bed and gently touched one of the remaining bedposts while whispering and waving her wand. In a few minutes the bedpost was gone and very precise replica of Bathilda stood in its place. It was the same in almost every way, down to the magical signature. It was a little weaker, but it would be enough for an auror team to identify the remains of the transfigured doppelganger as his aging professor. Bathilda soon fell asleep after her draining use of magic and likely would continue sleeping until late tomorrow morning. Alas, it seemed as though his responsibilities would keep him from enjoying watching Minerva hex Sybill into incoherence this evening.

~~~~~~~~~~ Y ~~~~~~~~~

Seeing the devastation of the Potter's in person and smelling the acrid scent in the air from all of the curses brought terrible memories of fighting Grindelwald into the forefront of Albus's mind. He let Bathilda's doppelganger drop down to the ground in the nursery before lifting Lily's body out of the room and taking it down the stairs. He carefully deposited her body before arranging it to look like she'd been fleeing to the nursery when killed. He sighed; magic was so much easier to use, but it simply wouldn't do to have traces of his magic all over the crime scene when the aurors investigated.

A swift check of the relatively untouched sections of the house revealed several items that he and Harry might find interesting in the future. He'd take good care of them until the boy needed them, and Albus doubted the senior Potters, as loyal members of the Order and good personal friends, would mind if he borrowed them in the meantime.

Wanting to destroy the evidence that Harry had survived without leaving traces of his magic, Albus headed outside, reached into one of his many pockets and pulled out a large, interesting muggle device that he had acquired during the war with Grindelwald. It was like a powerful _incendio_, but without any magic; a muggle flamethrower was quite an ingenious invention. After checking to make sure the fire containment wards around the cottage were still in place, he strapped on the giant contraption and aimed it at the second story. He pulled the trigger, and a jet of flames leapt toward Harry's nursery. As the cottage caught flame and began to burn, Albus felt a sense of melancholy at what he had done. He had always looked forward to finding an opportunity to use his flame thrower, but he wished it were under better circumstances. Knowing Hagrid was planning on visiting the Potters after the Halloween feast, he hurried into the busy street to distance himself before he apparated away.

~~~~~~~~~~ Y ~~~~~~~~~

Sirius Black sat in his rented room at the Hog's Head Inn drinking troll's grog. It was perfectly vile, but it did the job he wanted in the quickest way possible - he was completely and perfectly drunk. Halloween was the perfectly terrible time of year for death eater attacks, and as an auror, he was usually on the frontlines. However, tonight he wasn't on duty or standby for the first Halloween since he graduated from auror training. Hence, he was getting perfectly plastered. He would have preferred to spend time at the Potters, but he knew he couldn't be seen in Godric's Hollow too often, or he would risk giving away their location. Still...it was Halloween, which meant Old Voldie was probably perfectly focused on causing perfect mayhem elsewhere tonight. It wasn't _that_ late yet, so there would be plenty of muggles in costume still around, so maybe he could blend in perfectly with the crowd. His new flying motorcycle! YES! That would be perfectly perfect. Downing the last of his third bottle of grog, Sirius apparated to his new toy, splinched some of his nose hair, and climbed on with a distinct wobble.

The disillusionment charm on the motorcycle allowed Sirius to fly into Godric's Hollow unnoticed. He cruised up the main road through town, noting that his plan was working perfectly. Aside from a few jealous glances - and who wouldn't be a little green - he was being perfectly ignored. Soon, he was through the Fidelius and parking his perfect shiny bike by the gate. It was only then that he thought to look at the cottage. The front door was gone - blown away, along with large chunks of the surrounding wall and pieces of the roof. But what caught his attention after the first shock had knocked him sober was the fire engulfing the second story of the house, including the nursery.

"HARRY!" Breaking into a sprint, Sirius dashed into the cottage and up towards the stairs, not noticing either body until he tripped over Lily's remains. Horrified, he continued up the stairs into the burning second story. Covering his mouth and nose with his robe and ignoring the stinging in his eyes due to the smoke and heat, he pulled out his wand and shouted "_Aguamenti_", starting to put out the flames. Once he had cleared a way to the nursery, he noticed a skeleton - but no, it was too big - it must be an adult. Near the skeleton was only ash where the crib should have been. Falling to his knees, Sirius yelled in anguish - his best friend and his entire family were gone, DEAD, and it was all his fault! Why had he refused to be the secret keeper and suggested Peter...PETER! THE SLIMY TWO-TIMING RAT! HE WAS GOING TO KILL HIM! Vengeance burning in his eyes, Sirius left the cottage to start his hunt. So consumed by thoughts of vengeance, he barely noticed the hulking half-giant thudding loudly in his direction.

"Sirius! What's goin' on here?"

Sirius started at the loud, rumbling voice before responding, "They're all dead Hagrid - dead and gone. I have to find the rat!"

Hagrid's eyes filled with tears. "Even lil' Harry?"

"Take a look for yourself." Sirius mumbled while gesturing towards the burnt out shell, still striding towards the forest.

"I've got to get back to Dumbledore an' tell him!"

"Do as you wish. Take the bike." Perhaps then the dumb half-giant would let him concentrate on finding Peter. He _had_ to have led the Death Eaters here.

"Thanks! It looks real great Sirius. I'll return it!" Hagrid swung onto the bike and flew off, barely hearing the words behind him: "Just go." A quick tracking spell indicated that his _former_ friend had indeed been there and had fled back towards London through the forest. A wicked grin spread over Sirius's face as he transformed into a big black dog. With Padfoot's nose, he might be able to catch up to the little blighter before he got there.

~~~~~~~~~~ Author's Note ~~~~~~~~~~

A/N I hope you had as much fun reading as Mr. Darcy and I did writing. :) Please review! Questions and comments most welcome.


	3. Ministry Madness

Chapter 2: Ministry Madness

Albus Dumbledore had yet to sleep since his incendiary visit to the Potter's the previous night. After notifying the ministry that his instruments had detected Voldemort in Godric's Hollow, his time over the rest of the evening was spent trying to ascertain what exactly had happened to Voldemort. Was he truly dead, or had some other dark magic interfered? He was certain the ministry would have the results of their investigations for him shortly, so maybe they would have more information for him. As if responding to his thoughts, a ministry owl swooped in his office window with a summons from Minister Millicent Bagnold, a former student of his. Rising, he walked to his office fireplace, gathered some floo powder, and stepped into the green flames.

The lobby was bustling with activity even though it was exhaustingly early in the morning. An uncountable number of reporters were scurrying about hoping to get the next big scoop for this morning's paper while cadres of aurors were going in and out of the floos, dodging around the reporters. Several squads of obliviators in their pajamas were taking portkeys, no doubt trying to maintain the statute of secrecy in Godric's Hollow. Several of the reporters eyed Albus as he stepped from the floo, clearly debating accosting him for information, but a quick glare from the man many of them still thought of as "Headmaster", and they all went back to chasing the aurors.

Passing the reception desk, Albus headed to the minister's office. As the Chief Warlock, he was magically keyed into all of the protections which made entering the ministry less of a chore since he could avoid the hours-long screening process. Upon reaching the office, Dumbledore knocked and entered the office, finding Barty Crouch and the Minister waiting for him.

"Professor Dumbledore! Please, have a seat." Albus internally chuckled. Even though she had become the youngest minister for magic in the past three-hundred years, Millicent was yet to get out of the habit of addressing him as "Professor Dumbledore." Millicent reached for the elegant china tea set on the corner of her desk as Albus sat down. After pouring everyone a cup of tea and setting the sugar bowl and cream pitcher within easy reach, Millicent activated the privacy wards around the office and nodded to Barty. Albus steepled his fingers and waited to be filled in on the results.

Barty Crouch poured a little milk into his tea to help cool it before starting his report. "My aurors have been at Godric's Hollow since your owl and they've put together a rough sequence of events. We definitely found traces of You-Know-Who's magic at the scene along with Auror Black's, perhaps explaining how You-Know-Who made it through the Fidelius charm. As best we can tell from the evidence the aurors have put together, You-Know-Who arrived and blasted down the front door before duelling and killing Auror Potter in the atrium. Then he ambushed Lily Potter, likely his original target due to her red hair, on her way up the stairs to the nursery. Not wanting to leave loose ends, he advanced to the nursery where he found a visiting neighbor, Bathilda Bagshot, who was probably trying to escape with the Potter child. She was quickly dispatched as well, possibly by Auror Black since it seems his only magic was in the second story of the house. After that, though, we don't have many clues since the fire that started soon afterwards consumed everything in the nursery."

The conversation paused as everyone sipped at their tea. Barty seemed satisfied with just a bit of milk in his tea, but Albus struggled not to pull a face at the taste of his. As Barty and Millicent watched, he put a few cubes of sugar into his tiny china cup, almost causing it to overflow as he stirred it in. Both hide small grins behind their tea cups at the Professor's legendary sweet tooth before Barty continued his summary of the investigation.

"Since most of the physical evidence on the upper level of the Potter's cottage was destroyed, we asked our scrying division to take a look. Their report is where things get really interesting. While scrying isn't an exact magic, they keep getting flashes of an _Avada Kedavra _striking a runic ward before rebounding onto the caster, who they claim is You-Know-Who. This is followed by a massive explosion, and then nothing. When the aurors looked for evidence of runes in the room, the only items they found were the remains of a set of runic building blocks; the same kind thousands of children across magical Britain grow up playing with. If these blocks were used to create a ward it would explains why You-Know-Who didn't notice anything amiss, but such simple blocks shouldn't be able hold enough magic to create such a powerful shield. Most perplexing."

Albus carefully stored away what Barty had said, thankful that the scryers hadn't seen his meddling; however, the runic ward the scryers mentioned was interesting. It would have to be extremely strong to interfere with an _Avada Kedavra_. In fact, it would likely take most of the magical energy of a powerful adult wizard to create something like that, probably leaving them a squib. Since both of Harry's parents had been dead before Voldemort had turned his attention to the boy, the conundrum of how he had survived remained.

After giving him a few moments to digest the news, Millicent continued the conversation, "That puzzle aside, let's move on to the main reason we called you here, Professor. Our aurors arrived on the scene soon after you notified us last night, and so far we've managed to keep the situation under wraps. Our main worry is about You-Know-Who and the remaining Death Eaters. If the scryers are wrong, then it means You-Know-Who has gone to ground which isn't good news. If the scryers are right, once the Death Eaters figure out that their leader is gone..." Millicent trailed off.

Dumbledore had already anticipated this problem, "You are worried about what they might do to retaliate."

"Exactly. We could use your advice and resources to help us round up as many of the Death Eaters as quickly possible, whilst minimizing the damages."

"Let's get to business then. I've been working on a few plans since my instruments informed me of Voldemort's disappearance last night." He continued on in spite of the flinches, "The first thing that we have to do is provide a safe house for as many of the prominent red-heads as we can..."

Some time later, Dumbledore emerged from the Minister's office. Those hours of planning had taken a lot out of him, but they now had a press release and a plan to handle the next few days. It was certainly better than if the ministry was ignoring him or, even worse, looking for advice from someone like Lucius Malfoy. As he was reaching into his robes for a pepper-up potion, he saw the head of the auror office rushing down the halls.

"Professor Dumbledore, sir! It's awful news! We have just found Auror Black, and he's gone insane and started killing muggles!"

Dumbledore sighed and turned back to the minister's office with the auror. It seems as though he would be here for a while yet.

~~~~~~~~~~ Y ~~~~~~~~~

Much later that morning, Bathilda was roused from her magically exhausted sleep by a loudly crying Harry Potter. She got out of the bed and walked over to Harry, who was now in an extraordinarily ornate crib that Albus must have transfigured while she was sleeping. He could be such a show-off sometimes. Picking up the child, she rocked the boy in an attempt to quiet him, but he was inconsolable. Having never had any children of her own, she didn't know many spells that could help. Trying the only thing she could think of, she conjured a new diaper for the child, and changed him out of the old one, but Harry's crying persisted. She was at a loss. She didn't have any supplies to feed him with since food can't be conjured, and if he was missing his parents, well… She stopped her thoughts before she fully recalled the memories she was struggling to repress.

Bathilda hated to do it, but she put him back to sleep with another _somnus_ charm. It wouldn't do to have someone hear a baby crying in the headmaster's suite and come investigate. When Albus returned they would have to figure out how to keep the boy healthy while they found a home for him. She was supposed to be dead and was far too noticeable with her poor verbiage for a glamor charm to help. Albus couldn't blend into the crowd at Diagon Alley if he tried and people would question why in Merlin's name he was suddenly buying baby supplies. The muggle world was also not an option, as neither of them were all that familiar with it, and would surely draw too much attention to themselves.

Deciding to be useful rather than worrying about problems she couldn't solve, Bathilda wandered around looking for the Hogwarts student registry. She knew what it looked like, having seen it a couple of times during her tenure at Hogwarts, so it didn't take her long to find it on one of Albus' shelves next to a bowl of another strange, muggle candy that he was so fond of. Really, she wondered how he had any teeth left.

Setting the book down on Albus' desk, she flipped through until she found Harry's year. She frowned a bit at how small it was compared to past years, but during the past few dangerous years, many young couples either died or decided to put off having children until safer times. Since the names weren't sorted by blood status, she looked at the names of the parents. Many of them she recognized as old pureblood families: Longbottom, Malfoy, Greengrass. Some she knew from the paper or the wireless: Davis, Abbot, Bones, and Boot. Reaching the bottom of the list, she copied down the six sets of parents that she didn't recognize.

She started to flip backwards through the book, hoping to cross off a few more names from her list. Looking through earlier years, she found the relatives for four of the names, leaving her with two remaining possibilities in Harry's year: Justin Finch-Fletchley and Hermione Granger. She noted down the addresses, and returned the book to the shelf she found it on, sneaking one of the candies from the bowl. Enjoying the flavor, she settled down to wait for Albus to return.

She didn't have to wait long before a tired looking Albus stepped through the fireplace. He walked over to his desk and sat heavily in his chair. "Why were you so tired?", she inquired.

"Sirius Black. Not only did he betray the Potters to Voldemort but this morning he was found at the scene of a horrible massacre. He killed twelve muggles, Bathilda. Not only that, but he also killed Peter Pettigrew. A man who had been a close friend for most of his life, reduced to little more than a finger. Sirius did nothing but laugh maniacally as the Aurors took him away. I imagine he'll be sent directly to Azkaban, as Barty hasn't been worrying much about due process these days. Good riddance, I say."

"He was always such a hot-head boy, but I never think he would betrayed James." Bathilda sighed, before moving on, "I am finding all of the Muggleborns that are Harry's age. I find only two in the registry." Bathilda handed him the list. "We also need to decided what we are going to done with Harry. We don't have any supplies to fed him, and I couldn't just keep putting him back to sleep."

Albus sighed and pinched his nose tiredly, "Just a moment, Professor." He reached into one of his many pockets, pulled out a vial of pepper-up potion and imbibed it quickly, wincing at the taste. Soon, the familiar steam came from his ears and, with a bit more life in his eyes, he turned and glanced over the list. He was concerned with how short it was. If he stuck to the plan they discussed the night before, they only had two chances to find a family to take Harry, and he didn't like those odds. He might have to use methods some might find questionable to assure that one of them would take Harry and keep him safe.

Turning back to Bathilda, he answered her query, "I think we should visit these two families this morning. If one of them is willing to take Harry, then they can start looking after him, solving both our problems. Who should we visit first?" He rose from behind his desk, gathered up some of the papers that he had arranged while plotting last night, and put them into yet another pocket.

"Finch-Fletchleys are first on the list, so let's gone there." Bathilda also rose, and walked over to Dumbledore. "How be we get there?"

Albus chuckled as he remembered what his dear friend had written in _Hogwarts: A History_ about apparition not working in the castle. "Being headmaster has it's privileges." Albus winked, "I'll open a small hole in the castle wards for our magical signature, and we can apparate in and out from here." Closing his eyes and concentrating for a moment, he adjusted the wards. He then walked over to Harry, and cast a more powerful sleeping charm on the child, not wanting him to wake and cry while they were gone. "Alright. Let's be off then. Hopefully we'll return with good news for Harry."

Bathilda nodded, and, with a _crack_, they were gone.


	4. Mixing with Muggles

Chapter 3: Mixing with Muggles

Albus and Bathilda arrived in a posh, muggle neighborhood with a pop. Looking around, they located the large suburban mansion that belonged to the Finch-Fletchleys and walked up to the very ornate gate, which was locked. Both Albus and Bathilda stared quizzically at it, unable to comprehend how to get in without utilizing magic to move the heavy gate. Finally, a female voice interrupted them from the right - "go away". The wizard and the witch fixed their eyes on the little black box which had spoken to them. Albus noticed a silver button, and pushed it before saying: "Hello, my name is Albus Dumbledore, and I'm here with my associate, Bathilda Bagshot. We'd like to speak with you and your husband about a most important subject."

Irritated, the voice on the other end scoffed. "Neither my master nor my mistress are interested in donating to your charity. Go talk to the Ashworths down the road. They always have open arms for every sob story they come across."

"Ma'am, it's truly of the utmost importance. I'm here to speak with the family specifically about their son, Justin. He is a specially gifted young man, and we would like to offer him some unique opportunities."

After a slight pause, the voice came back slightly less hostile. "Just a moment. I will consult with the masters of the house." After a few minutes a short buzzing noise signalled the gates swinging open. Albus had hoped his message would be just enough to convince the maid to open the door. He didn't want to show his hand and reveal magic just yet.

Bathilda looked around impressed as they walked up the long, winding pathway. "Rich muggles", she commented, using a short phrase to sound sensible.

"Indeed. This walkway reminds me of walking to Hogwarts from the gate. I think it's a tad excessive, but muggles are strange people indeed."

"You will one to talked." Bathilda muttered. Albus chucked in response and they continued their trek.

Reaching the door, it was opened by a middle aged maid with a stern expression on her face. "Please follow me to the drawing room."

He and Bathilda followed the maid and were led to a table in a large, carpeted room, across from a fireplace. "Albus Dumbledore and Bathilda Bagshot" announced the maid.

A woman sat primly on a couch while the man standing on the far side of the room turned to them and spoke. "Just so you understand, let me warn you that If you're wasting our precious time, you'll be hearing from our solicitor. Now, hurry up and tell us about this 'opportunity' you have for our Justin." It seemed that there would be no small talk today.

Bathilda and Albus sat on the couch facing the lady and Albus steepled his hands, smiled disarmingly, and began speaking, "I assure you that both of you will find our news most interesting. As I mentioned before, your son Justin is specially gifted. There are special secondary schools for children like him, and I would like to offer him admission to one when he turns eleven."

The Finch-Fletchleys looked skeptical at this information, "How do you know that Justin is gifted at anything? He's scarcely a year old, and hasn't even gotten out of his nappies. He doesn't do much more than smile, cry, sleep, play and eat, just like any other child his age. How can you possibly know about any giftings he may or may not have at his age?"

"We have our ways," Albus evaded as he twinkled mysteriously. The Finch-Fletchleys shifted nervously at this, no doubt thinking that they were being watched. Bathilda elbowed Albus in the side, upset with his prevarications. "Regardless of how we know, I would like to offer your son placement in a very prestigious school. We come around to the parents of every special child when they are one year of age, and give their parents an opportunity to sign their child up for our schools."

Mr. Finch-Fletchley glanced towards his wife and joined her on the couch. His wife sighed and, not willing to pass up the opportunity without at least hearing more details, said, "Please, tell us more."

"Gladly, my dear!" Albus smiled, knowing that he had their full attention. Now, it was time to give them quite a shock. He hoped it would be enough to unbalance them and convince them to agree to whatever he said. "I am here on behalf of an international group of individuals who want to make sure that special children learn about their gifts," Albus paused here, building suspense, "The International Confederation of Wizards!"

As he spoke, the aged wizard rose from his seat, drew his wand, and started casting spells. Before the Finch-Fletchleys knew what was happening, the sofa they were on was lifted up into the air, the fireplace burst into flames and Mrs. Finch-Fletchley's hair was turned a bright pink.

"STOP, Albus! Too much!" Bathilda admonished as she brought out her wand to lower the sofa and repair the disheveled hairstyle. The Finch-Fletchleys however, were still wide-eyed and too shocked to do much more than stare at their guests. Bathilda glared at Albus, willing as much disapproval as she could into her gaze. Albus, however, just smiled back at her, as though he had expected her to do that all along.

Turning back to the Finch-Fletchleys, Albus spoke again, "I'm sorry for startling you. It seems that I was a bit too enthusiastic. Magic can be hard to control, even with years of training, after all." Bathilda glared at him more for the blatant lie.

'WHAT _WAS_ THAT!?" the woman yelled.

"That, my dear, was magic." Albus answered, twinkling and smiling. "Something your son, Justin, will learn to control when he goes to magical school. It's very important for him to learn, otherwise, he won't be able to control his magic." The Finch-Fletchleys paled at the thought of more of one of their guests having their hair turned pink at the dinner table or mysteriously floating away during dessert. "I have the papers with me for several magical schools. Please read them over, and let me know if you have questions about any of the schools. I'm here to help you decide on the best choice for your son."

Dumbledore pulled a large stack of papers from a pocket in his robes that was surely far too small for what came out of it, and the couple grabbed them. After perusing them in silence for a few moments, the wife spoke, "These schools seem surprisingly well put together. They look comparable to any secondary school our other sons are attending."

"As it should! These schools are all approved magical schools by the International Confederation of Wizards and thus meet very exacting standards. Now, as you look over the paperwork, I have something else to mention while you decide. Our schooling system is currently starting a new program to pair orphaned magical children with other magical children who come from otherwise non-magical families. The hope is that magical children without magical family will feel less isolated and the orphan can live in a loving home."

Mr. Finch-Fletchley looked up at that, lips thin at the thought of another magical child who could have more 'accidents'. "That sounds like a great program. Unfortunately, we already have five children, and we already decided we aren't going to have any more. We just don't have the energy."

"Are you sure? There are financial incentives as well, so it won't be an extra burden, and we have seen that magical children, especially from non-magical families, do better in school when they grow up with other magical children - one of the reasons we're starting this program."

"We'll consider it," said Mrs. Finch-Fletchley, as she looked up from the papers, "but I have a different question. Why are none of the schools in these pamphlets here in Britain?"

Albus' face fell, "Unfortunately, there is a particularly large crop of magical children born in Britain last year, and Hogwarts, the premiere school for young British magicals, is sadly full. These are the only schools with spaces left open in them."

Bathilda shot him an incredulous glance. He knew full well that Harry's year at Hogwarts was going to be one of the smaller years in recent history, thanks to You-Know-Who's reign of terror. She was fed up with Albus' games.

"That's going to make things very difficult for us. We already have our eldest enrolled at Eton, and our second is looking forward to going there as well. It's a very prestigious school, and I don't think they'll find a comparable education in any of these locations."

"I'm sorry to say that there isn't really any choice. If your son doesn't go to magical school, then he won't be able to control his magic and he'll be a danger to himself and his siblings. If he doesn't go with us, then our government will take him, and put him in the custody of a magical family before erasing all of your memories of him."

The couple froze in front of the still crackling fire as Bathilda hit them with a body-bind and a silencing charm. "ALBUS DUMBLEDORE!" She raged, her eyes bright with fury, "What will you be saying to this family? You telling them lies about everything! We will not destroy the futures of their non-magical children just so they are taking Harry! Let's obliviate them and left. You will have done enough here."

Albus, feeling like a misbehaving student in his professor's class, thought back on his actions. "_Maybe I did go a bit too far, even if it was for the best."_ he thought to himself. "My apologies Professor Bagshot." The maid walked in to find out what all the ruckus was about, and Bathilda bound and silenced her as well. He then turned to the frozen Finch-Fletchleys. "Please forgive me for my behavior today. I do hope that you'll send your son to Hogwarts, my school, when he comes of age in ten years. I'll make sure he does well there. _Obliviate_."

A few seconds later, Albus looked over to Bathilda as the couple and their maid stared blankly into the distance. "Shall we go straight to the Grangers?"

"Only if you'll comported yourself like a proper, decent wizard this time. No terrify magical displays. No malicious lies. No magical compulsions. Let the Grangers made their own decision. Are we clear?" Albus felt like he was in detention again.

After Bathilda had extracted a promise from him, they apparated away with a _crack_.

The Finch-Fletchleys started out of their daze at the sound, and looked around, trying to remember what brought them to their sitting room, just as the maid walked back out the door.

"Dear," spoke the lady of the house as she noticed something, "Did you ask the maid to light the fire this morning?"

The fire Bathilda had forgotten to put out continued crackling merrily away for rest of the week while Albus' powerful magic wore off, the muggle maid mystified as to how it could last so long without fuel. Fortunately, it was a very cold November, so no one asked the maid to extinguish it. If she had, she might have found that water didn't work very well on magical fire.

~~~~~~~~~~ Y ~~~~~~~~~

Bertram Granger was enjoying a relaxing Sunday in the sitting room watching a show on the telly next to his wife, Valeria, who was lightly dozing on his shoulder. The young dentists had just finished a very trying week at work, as the man who owned the practice they were working at had decided to take an unannounced vacation without cancelling any of his appointments. This had left the Grangers taking all of his patients as well as their own. That alone would have been bearable, if a bit troublesome, but what had really done them in was that their only daughter, Hermione, had come down with a bad case of the flu around the middle of the week, requiring constant care.

They had talked about hiring a sitter to care for her, but they were worried what one might do if she saw Hermione have an 'incident'. They loved their daughter, but they knew it wasn't normal for blocks to float and dolls to walk, and it just wouldn't do for a baby-sitter to see that and call the police. Since they couldn't take time off to care for her either, they had brought Hermione into the practice and had set up a constant rotation between patients and their daughter. At the end of the day they would return home to spend most of the night alternating between short naps and responding to the cries of their sick daughter. By the time Saturday arrived, the Grangers barely had the energy remaining to cook themselves food and care for Hermione. Fortunately, their daughter's fever had broken late the previous night, and she was currently catching up on lost sleep in her room while the Grangers enjoyed their respite from a most trying week.

Once Bertram and Valeria finally had a bit of energy, they'd returned to a topic they'd discussed before - their own practice. They had put off opening their own practice in favor of taking care of Hermione until she went to pre-school, but they knew they couldn't put up with their boss any longer. They might have to move to be closer to family who they trusted to baby-sit Hermione, but they couldn't work as glorified servants anymore.

Valeria stirred and grumbled as the doorbell rang, causing her husband to chuckle lightly as he rose, puzzled as to who would come calling on a Sunday afternoon. Looking through the peephole, Bertram's eyebrows rose as he took in the strangely dressed man and woman who were at his door. He hadn't seen them in the neighborhood before; he was sure he would have remembered them if he had. The man wore flamboyant robes that threatened to make his eyes fall out if he looked at them for too long, and the woman looked older than anyone he had ever seen. Figuring they were too old and crazy to harm anyone, he opened the door, fully prepared to help a batty old couple find their way home.

"Good evening! Mr. Granger, I presume?" The man in the eye-watering robes spoke as he opened the door.

"You presume correctly!", Bertram replied with as much of a smile as he could muster, "How can I help you this evening?"

"My name is Albus Dumbledore, and this is my associate, Bathilda Bagshot," Mr. Dumbledore smiled genially, "We are here to discuss some special opportunities for your daughter that you might be interested in. And before you ask, no, we aren't trying to sell you anything." Bertram laughed at this.

"Please, do come in. Just give me a moment to wake my wife and prepare the sitting room. Then we can talk about these opportunities of yours." In short order, a yawning Valeria was roused to wakefulness, and a table had been cleared off. Bertram ushered them into the sitting room, and they all took seats around the table. After a round of introductions, they got down to business.

"Tell us, Mr. Dumbledore, about these opportunities. You have our full attention, as long as my wife here can keep her eyes open." Bertram grinned slyly at his wife, who jabbed him with an elbow in response.

Mr. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled in response, "Allow me to begin by telling you what brought us here in the first place. We are here because your daughter, Hermione, has a very special gift. She is a witch and Bathilda and I are here to introduce you, as her parents, to the magical world."

Bertram was stunned into silence at this. He didn't quite know what to say. _Are these two crazy? If not, what motivation could they have for trying to trick us?_

Fortunately, Valeria was much less taken aback, "Mr. Dumbledore," she then paused, as trying to figure out the most polite way of dismissing his claim, "while we appreciate you coming here to talk with us, I'm not sure we can take you at your word. You and Ms. Bagshot seem like nice people, but are you trying to tell us our daughter is 'magical'?

"Would you be up for a practical demonstration?" Mr. Dumbledore pulled out a rather ornate stick. Valeria internally scoffed, guessing it was his 'magic wand'.

"It would go a long way to convincing us. What 'magic' can you do? Can you make things float? That should be easy enough."

Mr. Dumbledore pointed his 'wand' at the table, and a nearby coffee mug rose into the air. Bertram, who had finally begun to regain his bearings, waved his hands around the coffee mug, as though looking for strings. Finding nothing, he grabbed the mug, and attempted to pull it down. Failing to budge the cup an inch, he leaned back, and was again speechless. This time, Valeria was no better. She certainly hadn't expected him to _actually do _something_._

The wizard lowered the coffee cup back onto the table, and, thankfully, waited for them to recover.

"That… was quite… unexpected." Valeria stuttered out.

"Understatement of the year…" her husband muttered next to her, before he sighed and turned to address Mr. Dumbledore, "Tell us about your magical world."

~~~~~~~~~~ S ~~~~~~~~~

Over the course of the next hour, Albus explained to the parents about wands, magical schools, brooms, and all the minutia that he usually explained to the parents of muggleborn children. He hadn't visited any parents personally in many years, but he still remembered his days as deputy headmaster and the words came easily to him. The Grangers asked many questions but overall they seemed to be quite excited to hear of their daughter's newly revealed talents.

Once they finished the overview, Mr. Granger asked one last question that gave Albus an opportunity to turn the conversation to Harry, "So…Mr. Dumbledore, why have you come to turn our world upside down today of all days? November 1st seems rather arbitrary to me."

Albus frowned, "Truthfully, we normally wouldn't tell you about the magical world until your daughter turned eleven, but there are exceptional circumstances in our world at the moment. There is a powerful magical terrorist in our world who has been targeting wizards and witches who have been born to non-magical parents, like your daughter. Such children are known as muggleborns in our society. We wanted to come and warn you about him, and offer you our assistance."

The Grangers instantly shared a worried glance. "Let me assure you", Albus continued, "that our government is doing everything that it can to combat this threat, but we wanted to give you another option. Our ministry has approved a program to help fund the expatriation of our younger muggleborns and their families to other countries."

Mrs. Granger spoke up. "Leaving everything behind is quite a step to take, even for our own safety. What will we do once we leave? We are dentists, and we were planning on opening up our own dental practice here in Britain, but we aren't licensed to practice internationally. We would be jobless!"

Albus saw his chance to persuade them, and intervened "This program will also help you establish yourselves in your country of choice. We will cover your living expenses for up to two years with a stipend while you settle yourselves and work on getting your licenses."

Albus had done much research into muggle dentistry in his time. The teeth of a magical person are usually quite resistant to tooth decay, and as such, there were no good wizarding tooth healers. However, in Albus' case, his never-ending fascination with sweets of all kinds meant that even his magically reinforced teeth occasionally needed some extra assistance. Being the Supreme Mugwup of the ICW also meant that he could travel to any country for any reason as he felt necessary. Therefore, he had the whole world to choose from for his dentists. His exhaustive research had concluded that, while Hungary was his personal choice for dentistry, Australia had some of the best compensated dentists in the world.

"If I may, I would recommend you consider Australia. It is a very good place for dentists. They are paid quite well, and you should be able to open your own practice there fairly quickly. Their magical education system is slightly different from ours; it is based on independent tutelage. However, for non-magical parents like yourselves this might be ideal since it will give you a chance to see what your daughter is learning. Their academic certifications are also accepted in many places internationally, including Britain, so your daughter won't have difficulties should she ever decide to repatriate in later life." What Albus didn't mention was that, with Australia being so far away, it would be even safer for Harry.

The Grangers paused to consider Albus' words, "Well, it seems like a decent place. We will take that into account when we make our decision. Is there anything else we should know before we decide?"

This was the opportunity Albus was waiting for. It would cost him quite a few galleons if they accepted, but it would be worth it if they left with Harry. He smiled and twinkled as he spoke, "There is one more thing you may wish to consider, and it's why I have brought Miss Bagshot with me today." Bathilda turned to him with a questioning eyebrow. She had been keeping a close eye on Albus this time, and while she hated that he was lying to these nice people at least these lies weren't threats to ruin their lives. "The terrorist that we mentioned before has left behind magical orphans, usually whose parents have died fighting for freedom. We hope that you would adopt one when you leave the country. It's not mandatory, but there will be significant incentives to make the adoption go smoother. For one, Miss Bagshot would accompany you to Australia as a tutor and nanny to make up for the added inconvenience. She is a bit hard to understand due to a magical accident that distorted her speech, but she is quite competent, and was once a professor at the premier British magical school."

Albus had used some light legilimency on the couple during their chat, so he knew that the combination of additional money to help start up their practice as well as a ready-made magical baby-sitter and tutor for their daughter would almost certainly be too much to resist.

"That's quite a generous deal, Mr. Dumbledore. We'll have to discuss it, but I think you can call us very interested for the time being. When do you need us to have an answer for you?"

After discussing the details of how and when to contact him, Albus and Bathilda got up to leave when a wail emerged from down the hall, making the Granger parents sigh. Bathilda, noticing the bags under their eyes, looked to Albus and said "Pepper-Up potion for the Grangers. They be tired and needing energy."

Agreeing with Bathilda's assessment, Albus reached into his robe and pulled out a couple of vials from his stock. Passing them to the Grangers and telling them it would help, they drank the potion and soon steam was coming from their ears and they felt full of energy.

Looking at the empty bottle in wonderment, Mr. Granger exclaimed, "Every parent needs this!"

Albus could only chuckle and agree.

~~~~~~~~~~Y~~~~~~~~~~

_**Daily Prophet - November 1st 1981**_

_**The Ginger Scourge Scoured!**_

_By Thaddeus Skeeter_

_Early this morning, the Ministry of Magic detected powerful Dark Magic coming from Godric's Hollow. After a thorough investigation, they have released their findings._

_In the most exciting news we have reported since Quidditch Reporter Bertha Jorkins was found lost in the Amazon rainforest, we confirm the rumors that You-Know-Who has been defeated! No longer must the red-head witches of Britain live in fear of The Ginger Scourge! According to the press release, You-Know-Who attacked Godric's Hollow, hoping to end the life of Lily Potter, a well known red-head, and her family. He succeeded in massacring the entire family, but a cleverly laid trap brought He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named down with them. Nothing remained of the dark wizard but a pile of ashes._

_We mourn the Potters for their sacrifice, and thank them for saving us all. To all red-heads who fear that they may face reprisals from the Death Eaters, please contact Amelia Bones at the Ministry of Magic to arrange safety while our ministry cleans up the remaining Death Eater scum._

_See page 5 for a transcription of the press release._

_See page 12 for Bertha Jorkins' report on the difficulties of playing Quidditch in dense jungles._

~~~~~~~~~~Y~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed the chapter.

We are slowly working our way out of the starting section of our story, and we should be getting to some more of the 'Adventure' and 'Mystery' once we actually get to our first time-skip in a few more chapters. Hopefully we can manage to hold your interest until then.

Thank you to our two reviewers six favorites and ten followers for letting us know that you're interested. We appreciate it.

Have a good week,

Mr. Darcy


	5. The Terrible Truth

A/N Sorry this is a few days late. I had an exam on Monday that took priority and delayed us both. Please enjoy. :)

-Lady Beatrice

~~~~~~~~~~ November 2nd ~~~~~~~~~~

Albus and Bathilda appeared at the end of Lockspur Lane where the Grangers lived. Albus' suspicions had proven correct, and the Grangers had agreed to take Harry and move to Australia, and Bathilda had decided it would be best to get Harry to them as quickly as possible. They walked together towards the house when Albus stopped short. "Ah, the difficulties of being a headmaster. I'm sorry Bathilda, but there is someone waiting for me in my office. Do you think you could handle the Grangers without me?" At Bathilda's nod, he handed over the papers and explained where they needed signatures. After juggling the papers and Harry, Bathilda finally managed to get the papers into a pocket of her robes. Albus smiled, "I'll apparate over to the Ministry, so I can floo to my office. You will tell me how Harry gets along?" Bathilda waved at Albus before walking the last few steps up to the Granger home to deliver baby Harry alone.

Harry was still in his enchanted sleep, but Bathilda was worried about how he would react when he awoke. He hadn't eaten in nearly a day and a half, and though he was using much less energy under his enchanted sleep, the child had to be extremely hungry by this point. She hoped the Grangers would have something for the child to eat readily available, otherwise, this first encounter might not be a pleasant one.

Bathilda rang the doorbell, and within moments, Bertram had opened the door and invited her inside.

Bertram, ever the affable gentleman, greeted her, "Good afternoon, Bathilda. It's good to see you again. Valeria will be over as soon as she finishes getting Hermione up from her nap." Inviting her to the same sitting room where they had spoken previously, Bertram ushered her to a seat, and then acknowledged the child in Bathilda's arms. "Is this the orphan that we will be caring for from now on?"

"Indeed. His name be Harry James, and his parents were recently killing by the same dark wizard you fleeing. Thanking you ever so much for takes him." Bathilda smiled.

"With all that your government is doing for us in exchange, I'd say it's us that should be thanking you. Besides, my wife had wanted another child, but we just couldn't, not with Hermione being so different. Now my daughter should be less lonely." Bertram extended his arms toward the child, "Can I hold the boy? I'd like to get acquainted with him before you leave, just in-case he needs a familiar face to calm him down."

Agreeing with the sentiment, Bathilda handed the child over to Bertram, and, on the spur of the moment, whispered the counter charm to wake him up as she did so. As Harry slowly woke up, he opened his eyes and started squirming, but Bertram, with practiced ease, kept Harry comfortably in his arms. "So you're the newest Granger, huh? It's definitely not going to be a secret that you were adopted, Harry. No black hair or green eyes anywhere in the family." Bertram smiled at the child. "Hopefully you get along with Hermione. She's a very precocious child, and I can see her taking her responsibilities as your new big sister very seriously. Just don't let her boss you around too much."

Harry looked up at the unfamiliar face and voice, and started crying again. Bertram, who had somewhat expected this, situated Harry so he could see Bathilda. He calmed a bit, but his eyes kept searching for his parents.

"He probably hungry," Bathilda spoke up. "He haven't eaten yet, and it was about his lunch time. Do you and Valeria have anything to feeding him?"

"Of course." Bertram turned to the kitchen, "Val and I went on a supply run after we sent you and Albus our acceptance. I'll be back in a minute."

As Bertram left with Harry to get him some food, Bathilda sat back and sighed in relief. Fortunately for Harry, the Grangers seemed to be the responsible sort and had prepared for his arrival. She was willing to bet they had already set up a crib in Hermione's room for the new arrival. She was so relaxed that she nearly missed Valeria walking into the room with a girl that could only be her daughter, Hermione. "Hello again, Bathilda. Hermione, this is Bathilda Bagshot. Go introduce yourself."

Hermione let go of her mom's hand and confidently bounced over to Bathilda and gave a curtsy that nearly resulted in her falling over before extending her hand. "My name Hermowne Grangy. Good meet you."

Bathilda smiled at the girl's cute introduction and shook her hand. "My name Bathilda Bagshot. Good meeting you." Hermione smiled back at Bathilda before she was distracted by the crying in the kitchen.

She turned around and pulled on the hem of her mother's skirt, "Mummy, who in kitchen?"

"Why don't you go find out dear?" And with that, Hermione was off. With a shake of her head, Valeria sat down with Bathilda, and sighed. "She's so curious sometimes that it can be a bit exhausting. I'm glad for it, but just occasionally, I do wish she would just sit still instead of badgering me with endless questions… But enough about that. I assume Bertram is in the kitchen with Hermione's new sibling?"

"Indeed. His name will Harry James. He is a bit hungry when he woken up, so Bertram gets him some food. I'm glad you be so prepared."

"Good. Bertram is pretty good with children, so he should be able to handle it. Does Harry have a last name?"

"Granger." Bathilda smiled and pulled out a stack of papers from her robes. "These be official non-magical adoption papers. Once you and your husband signed in the necessary places, everything should is in order." Albus had spent hours pulling strings to create a convincing paper trail for the newly christened Harry James Granger. He was quite thorough in making sure that all of the muggle documentation was exactly as it should be for an orphan of unknown parentage and that Harry James Potter showed as dead in all of the magical documentation, without any evidence of the Grangers now having two magical children.

As Valeria and Bathilda discussed the details of the adoption papers, which took quite a while due to Bathilda's unclear speech, Harry's crying quieted in the kitchen. As they finished up, Harry, Hermione, and Bertram returned from the kitchen. Hermione was holding Harry's hand, nearly dragging him along. The boy didn't seem very worried, though. He simply followed along, staring around wide-eyed as Hermione pulled him up to her mother. "Mummy, this Jamie. He new little brother." Hermione stuck Harry's hand out for her mother to shake.

As Valeria shook Harry's hand, she raised a questioning eyebrow at her husband. "Jamie?"

Bertram shook his head and gave a chuckle. "When I told Hermione that his name was Harry James, she decided there and then that she was going to call him Jamie. I haven't been able to dissuade her from it. Not that I tried very hard - I rather like it to be honest." He winked at his wife.

"Jamie, let's play." Hermione dragged Harry over to a corner where a puzzle lay partially completed on the rug and the two settled down together to try and complete it. Harry seemed a bit overwhelmed and hesitant, but soon they were laughing together.

As the children played, the adults made plans for their upcoming trip to Australia. Bathilda would be going ahead to settle in and pick out a house for herself and another for the Grangers. The Grangers would follow in early January after they got their affairs sorted and said goodbye to their family in Britain. Soon enough Bathilda realized it was time to say goodbye to Harry, at least for a few months. As she left, she could hear the Grangers helping Harry settle into his new life. As for her, she was going to make a short trip back to her house in Godric's Hollow. If she recalled correctly, there were some excellent books about raising children in her family library, and she was going to need to do some research if she was going to become a babysitter at her age.

~~~~~~~~~~ M ~~~~~~~~~~

Severus nearly collapsed into one of the overstuffed armchairs in Dumbledore's office. The Death Eaters had been in complete disarray ever since their Lord had disappeared after his secret mission on Halloween. Severus had known the Dark Lord had planned to strike down a prominent red-headed witch to celebrate his return to Britain from Ireland. He had kept his specific target a secret, but all of the Death Eaters had known the main possibilities were Lily Potter, Amelia Bones, and Alice Longbottom. Thanks to the Daily Prophet article run yesterday, rumors had been spreading like wildfire among the ranks, and Severus didn't know what to think. Some said that Albus Dumbledore had dueled with and defeated Voldemort in Godric's Hollow, some said that Voldemort had somehow slain the Potters but had fallen into a trap set by the Longbottoms, and a few particularly gullible wizards maintained that Voldemort had fallen in love with a muggle and eloped to Albania! The death of the Potter family was mentioned with disdain along with the rest of the Prophet article; the dark mark remained which meant all the Death Eaters knew their Lord was still alive. Besides, everyone knew the Potters were hidden under the Fidelius charm, and with Sirius Black as the secret keeper, they were untouchable. For all his failings, even Severus had to admit that Black would never betray Potter. Not that it had stopped him from worrying ceaselessly about Lily's safety.

Without the Dark Lord's leadership, the internal command structure of the Death Eaters had quickly fallen apart as Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange vied to fill the power vacuum. Personally, Severus was hoping for Lucius. As much as he considered the man a rich, amoral snob, he was still a friend of sorts and much less likely than Bellatrix to go on a murderous rampage. When Severus had escaped, she was attempting to whip up support to attack the Longbottoms on the basis of continuing the Dark Lord's work from before his disappearance. Severus made a note to tell Dumbledore that before leaving...but after he heard how Lily was doing. Maybe if he was feeling particularly generous, he would also mention Lucius's much more competent plan to control the ministry by setting up a puppet minister now that the Dark Lord was gone.

As he sunk further into the chair, Severus thought about events of the last day. His skills had been in high demand. In their quest for news of the Dark Lord, the Death Eaters had needed bottles of veritaserum to interrogate of captured aurors and then batches of polyjuice to make use of the information. Even after all that, Lucius had urgently requested another batch of wit-sharpening potions to help him with his schemes and Severus could do nothing but oblige. He hadn't slept since Halloween, and even his specially modified pepper-up brew could only do so much. He had found that being a spy and saboteur was much harder than honest work, even as a Potions Master. He had modified the veritaserum to allow the aurors to speak half-truths, created a polyjuice that would run out just a little too early, and had modified Lucius' potion to simply make him _feel_ more intelligent, instead of actually assisting him with is plotting. His modifications were subtle, and it was unlikely anyone, even the Dark Lord, would be able to find any fault with the potions. Any unfavorable results would be blamed on the incompetence of the Death Eaters who were helping Severus brew.

It was a crude setup by necessity. His Lord often needed more potions than Severus alone could produce, yet he also couldn't spare any of the death eaters to be Severus' permanent peons. As a result, Severus had to constantly supervise them to make sure they weren't going to make an unusable broth, or worse, accidentally blow themselves up. In the end, Severus had decided that writing instructions on a board for all to see while he alternated between yelling at them for incompetence, supervising their meager efforts, and brewing the more complex potions himself. At times, he felt like he was babysitting a horde of dunderheaded students, but the Dark Lord didn't trust anyone else to supervise.

Just as Severus began to nod off in the incredibly soft chair, the fire lit with the green flames of a floo connection before Dumbledore strode through back into his office. Severus immediately shook off his drowsiness and turned his attention to the aged headmaster. He had important questions for the old wizard. When Dumbledore's eyes fell upon him, a myriad of emotions flickered across the man's wrinkled face. Severus had known the man for years, but couldn't interpret what many of them meant. The lack of twinkle in the headmaster's eyes indicated that Dumbledore knew this wasn't going to be an easy conversation.

Dumbledore took the chair opposite Severus, yet behind the desk, making Severus feel oddly like a school child again. "Professor." Severus nodded wearily towards the other wizard, "I trust you know the truth about what has been happening for the past several days? The Death Eaters don't believe the Prophet, and, quite frankly, neither do I."

"Ah, yes my boy. The truth. It is both beautiful and terrible and must be treated with great care. Have your associates been able to find Voldemort?"

Severus winced. "No, but not for lack of trying. Everything has been hectic since he failed to return on Halloween, and yet, all the Death Eaters know he isn't dead - the Dark Mark is still etched into our souls, as inescapable as ever. But I ask you again, what has truly happened?"

"The Dark Mark remains? Show me." Severus silently ground his teeth. The old man was being as irritating and evasive as ever. Yet, he stood up, held out his left arm out over the desk and pulled the sleeve back to his elbow to reveal the Dark Mark. Dumbledore reached out and examined it, trying to feel the connection with his own magic. "Astonishing. It feels somehow weaker than it did before, but the connection definitely remains. It is as I feared. No mere child could have destroyed Voldemort."

Severus jerked his arm back and sat down in his chair, once again covering up his mark. "Explain."

Dumbledore sighed and got up, turning away from Severus to pat the baby Fawkes, newly reborn.

"Halloween night I came back to this office after the feast to discover that several of the charms I had set to keep a general eye on Voldemort had violently disengaged, destroying the object they were attached to."

Severus leaned back into his chair, and let out a silent sigh of relief. The years of espionage had not been kind to the potions master. Then something the headmaster had said made him tense again. "What did you mean when you referred to a child?" Lily had given birth to a boy about a year ago, hadn't she? He had been so jealous of Potter at the time, but worse, the boy had made Lily a red-headed mother, and thus a target.

Dumbledore turned back towards his former student, gently looking at him. "Mr. Snape, no one has been able to find Voldemort since he attacked the Potters at Godric's Hollow on Halloween night. According to the ministry's scryers, Lily's child was the last person to see Voldemort before a massive explosion claimed them both."

Severus stared at Dumbledore. "How is that possible? There is no way the Dark Lord could get past the Fidelius charm! Black was the most fanatical member of Club Potter there was!"

Dumbledore sighed. "He fooled us all. Evidence of his magic was found at the Potter residence, but before he could be found he killed several muggles along with Peter Pettigrew in downtown muggle London. He was arrested yesterday morning, and I expect he will be in Azkaban before nightfall today."

There was a pause in the conversation as the logical conclusion of these events hung thick in the air. Severus could barely get the words out, but he had to know. "And what about Lily?"

"I am truly sorry Severus. There were no survivors. As we both know, Voldemort knew better than to leave people alive who would seek revenge later. If you can, take comfort in the fact that Lily is likely the one who set the trap that eventually destroyed him."

At those words, Snape's world came crashing down. He had killed Lily. Despite all his efforts to right the wrong, he had killed Lily. He would never have the chance to apologize, and make amends. He would forever carry the burden of knowing that the woman he loved since before he even knew what the word meant had died hating him, hating what she thought he stood for. And he had no one but himself and his own choices to blame.

He remembered when he discovered the Dark Lord's ridiculous interpretation of the prophecy - how on earth did riding on wings of fire equal red hair?! He remembered his despair when he found out how he had put Lily in danger. He remembered diverting the Dark Lord's attention to Ireland. He remembered betraying his friends and begging Dumbledore to protect her. All for naught.

Despite his turbulent emotions, Severus kept his face impassive. "All dead?" His voice tightly controlled, Snape rose and said accusingly: "You couldn't keep her safe. You _promised_ me you would."

Dumbledore sighed, "Lily was betrayed. We can only be thankful that, with their sacrifice, Voldemort's reign of terror has ended."

"That's a cold comfort, Albus. Especially since we both know it not to be true." With a sweep of his cloak, he headed towards the door.

"Mr. Snape," Severus paused but didn't turn around, "If you need protection from your erstwhile allies, I can protect you here at Hogwarts from both the Death Eaters and the Ministry. You are quite excellent at potions, and Slughorn could retire any day now." Without a word in response, Severus left with his robes billowing behind him.

He would consider Dumbledore's offer later. For now, he needed to get away. His emotions were roiling violently just under the surface, and he refused to allow the headmaster to see him fall to pieces. As he exited the school, he encountered a group of first years, most likely headed to Herbology class. They were in his way, and he gave them a look promising eternal suffering if they bothered him, so they all quickly scrambled away in terror. Severus Snape was an intimidating man at the best of times, but at this moment, he was at his most terrifying. Continuing through the now deserted courtyard, Severus reached the gates and apparated away.

Appearing in his deserted, dilapidated home at Spinner's End, he opened his liquor cabinet and drew out a bottle of firewhiskey. Sitting in a threadbare loveseat, he took several gulps and felt his tight emotional control start to slip.

Lily was dead. Severus killed her. Even her son was dead. Severus had killed him as well. Hundreds of witches across Ireland, dead, and the blame rested nowhere but with him. Lily was dead! Lily was dead! How could he have been so stupid?!

He drank more firewhiskey, but the pain refused to dull even the slightest bit. He could only see his past mistakes and the terrible present they had wrought. He had joined the Death Eaters straight out of Hogwarts. They had offered him acceptance, respect, and, most of all, power. He had delighted in killing muggles, envisioning each and every one of them as his abusive father. He had gotten almost everything he wanted in life! And what was the result? Lily was dead, and the remains of his broken life stretched out ahead of him. How hollow everything seemed now.

His sorrow and rage couldn't be contained as his magic started to run wild, his control weaken by the alcohol. Glass shattered, and the few electric appliances in the house short-circuited. As the ancient house creaked, Severus' anger turned towards the structure itself. What did he need this house for?! What good had it done him! He had only kept it for the precious memories of Lily that resided in this small town, but now those memories would bring him nothing but pain. Rising, he threw a powerful blasting curse at one of the walls. Watching the wood shatter, he finally felt the pain dull. He threw a cutting curse at the furniture and the pain dulled just a little bit further. He continued through the house, using progressively darker and darker spells. With each bit of the house that he destroyed, the pain lessened.

After a particularly powerful curse that was once used during fortress sieges, the structure gave a final groan before it could no longer hold it's own weight. Severus apparated outside to the ward line as the house collapsed in upon itself. Still unable to bear the pain, Severus lifted his wand and flames shot forth. The house burned, but Severus was still not satisfied. He summoned all of his pain and anger and cast Fiendfyre at the smoking pile of wood – in moments, the remains were consumed. Snape grappled with the flames, bending them to his will, and dispelling them before they could break his wards to consume the whole neighborhood.

Standing over the ashes of the place that once contained both his best memories of Lily and his worst memories of his father, the anger at last left him completely. As the wind swept the ashes away, Severus collapsed to the ground as a broken man, finally allowing himself to be overcome with tears.


	6. The Terrors of Travelling

Chapter 5: The Terrors of Travelling

**A/N: Hello all! Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter up, but both Lady Beatrice and I had a pretty busy time, and didn't manage to get our act together until now. We hope you enjoy this chapter!**

~~~~~~~~~~ Y ~~~~~~~~~~

_**Daily Prophet**_

_**November 5, 1981**_

_**Augusta Longbottom Leads Dark Force Defense League Against Remaining Death Eaters**_

_By Thaddeus Skeeter_

_We have just received news this morning that should have many Death Eaters quaking in their fancy dragonhide boots. Augusta Longbottom has come out of her retirement and taken over leadership of the Dark Force Defense League from previous leader Lydia Vance. This changeover happened after Mrs. Vance was challenged to a duel by Lady Longbottom, who stated that Mrs. Vance "has less backbone than a flobberworm, and has let the Death Eaters spread their terror unopposed for far too long!" The duel was over in less than two minutes, and ended when Lady Longbottom literally flattened the erstwhile leader of the League. As Mrs. Vance was being taken to St. Mungo's to be uncompressed, Lady Longbottom's only comment was "It should have only taken one minute to oust that little Pygmy Puff. I seem to be out-of-practice."_

_As we previously reported, Augusta Longbottom's only son and his wife were victims of a retaliatory Death Eater attack led by Bellatrix Lestrange, and, despite St. Mungo's best efforts, we can now sadly report that they will likely be permanent residents of the long-term care ward due to Cruciatus over-exposure. Attacks like this have been occurring across the country as some Death Eaters stubbornly continue to attack red-headed witches, refusing to believe reports that their master is gone. Since her victory and subsequent induction, Lady Longbottom has received special dispensation from the Minister of Magic to mobilize all members of the Dark Force Defense League against those bearing the Dark Mark._

_The Dark Force Defense League was once all that stood between the good wizards and witches of Britain and the dark powers who sought power over them. However, with the establishment of the Ministry of Magic and the Auror Corps, the organization became more of an academic research group shunning true action for many generations. With the formidable Augusta Longbottom at the helm, the Auror Corps may have finally acquired a powerful ally in their fight against the Death Eaters._

_For more information about the history of the Dark Force Defense League, see page 7_

_For a list of Augusta Longbottom's accomplishments from her forty years in the World Duelling Circuit, see pages 10 to 24_

~~~~~~~~~~ December 1981 ~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn't easy being dead. The worst part of it all was that magical transport was out, at least until Bathilda left England. She stared down at the funny little navy blue muggle book which held a picture of her, strangely still and unmoving. The hand written name on the front of the passport stated that she was one Mrs. M Wilkins. In her head, Bathilda carefully reviewed her new persona's reasons for moving to Australia. She had just finished a series of made-up travels all over the world using muggle transportation, all dutifully made up and recorded in her equally fake passport. On her travels, she had met other long lost descendants of one Heliotrope Wilkins, former headmistress of Hogwarts, and she had decided to settle down and write a book about her travels near last remaining Wilkins in Darwin, Australia. Needless to say, there weren't actually any Wilkinses in Darwin - the last one had died just over five years ago - but as a batty witch who traveled with muggle transportation, no-one had been able to get a hold of her to tell her about the funerals. Since Australia was always looking for more magical people, it was unlikely the magical immigration officials would question her story too closely. The line edged closer to the desk where an officer was checking the blue books, and she hoped her encounter would be short. It wasn't easy being dead.

~~~~~~~~~~ Y ~~~~~~~~~~

Due to her obvious advanced age, the staff of Qantas Airways were kind enough to let her board before the rush of muggles. The families with young children were boarding at the same time, but Bathilda was in no hurry. When she arrived at her aisle seat, it looked distinctly uncomfortable. Poking confirmed her suspicions, so she surreptitiously moved her wand down from it's holster into her palm and whispered "_Levamentum_" to make it more comfortable. Giving the newly improved seat another poke, she decided that it was much improved, and settled in with a relaxed sigh.

Soon, other passengers started to board the plane, shoving and yelling as they tried to stow their bags and find their seats. All of the noise woke many of the previously sleeping children who started to cry, including one particular baby girl with very healthy lungs seated just behind her. Fortunately, Bathilda had been studying childcare spells quite intensively for the past month, making sure she would be up-to-the-task of fulfilling her duties as Harry - or perhaps that should be Jamie, since his new family seemed to prefer their daughter's nickname - and Hermione's new caretaker. She didn't really have much else to do, being dead and all. She might even go so far as to call herself quite an expert at this point.

With a whispered "_Quies Puer_", Bathilda's magic reached out and the screaming girl behind her forgot what she was crying about and snuggled back into her mother before going back to sleep. It was a derivation of the simple _Notice-Me-Not_ charm that made the children unable to focus on what made them upset in the first place, as well as a bit drowsy. The minds of adults were too developed to be susceptible to such a simple suggestion, but a small child under the spell's influence would ignore just about everything except hunger or pain. She cast the spell on every child she could see from her seat, and then settled in to enjoy the much reduced noise level, thankful that she had magic at her disposal. It would have been a very uncomfortable flight without it.

~~~~~~~~~~ Y ~~~~~~~~~~

Bathilda Bagshot sat down heavily in the Palam Airport in New Delhi. The chair wasn't particularly comfortable and the airport was very crowded, but at least she'd gotten some sleep on the plane thanks to a sleeping potion she had surreptitiously added to her drink. As she sat eating the hefty stuffed pancake the muggle vendor had called a 'dosa', she smiled at a young couple and their four year old daughter. Clearly, the child had been sitting in a plane for far too long making her antsy. When the nearby escalators caught her eye, the child decided she was going to burn up some energy by running up and down them. The parents were taking turns escorting the child, while the other ate and relaxed. It made her feel quite sorry for the Grangers, considering they were in charge of getting two small children through the same two day trip she was currently on. Being used to portkeys, floos, and apparition, Bathilda had never spent so much time waiting around in her entire life. How did muggles ever survive it on a regular basis!?

Pulling her to-do-list from her pocket, Bathilda added "Look into sleeping potions" to the bottom. Most potions weren't safe to use on small children, but if she could find anything, the Grangers would have a much more pleasant trip. Looking over the rest of it, she reviewed her first few tasks upon arrival. The first thing on her list was scouting out a new home for the Grangers. She had spoken with them before she left about what it was that they wanted, so she knew what to look for. After that, she'd need to acquire something nearby for herself as well. Once she was settled, she'd lay some notice-me-not wards around the house she picked out to make sure no other muggles decided to buy it before the Grangers arrived after Christmas.

She was also going to need to visit the local Gringotts branch to open a new account and store some of the precious few belongings that she had brought with her in a shrunken trunk. The rest of her money would then get willed into her new account via the fake will she and Albus had devised. She also needed to get to know the local magical community, and spread her cover story around a bit. Bathilda smiled as she reached an item near the end of her list - register as an official magical tutor. It was going to take a few years before the Granger children would be old enough to need tutoring, but it would look odd if they were her only students during her stay in Australia. She'd need to register with the Australian Ministry anyway if she was going to tutor them, and it wouldn't hurt for her to get back into the swing of teaching before it was time to teach them. Besides, she didn't know much about the Australian educational system or its magical community beyond what she had read and there was no better way to learn than by teaching children. They were so full of innocent and insightful comments, and getting to know the parents would help give Har - Jamie and Hermione somewhere to get started in case they decided they wanted to work in the magical sector in a few years time. Yes, becoming a magical tutor sooner rather than later would be a great idea.

~~~~~~~~~~ January 1981 ~~~~~~~~~~

Valeria Granger sat exhausted in the back row of the airport shuttle with her husband and their two children. Bertram was currently sleeping on her shoulder, and she was awake watching Jamie and Hermione as they played. The past few days had been some of the longest of her life, as they dealt with all of the paperwork necessary to leave the country, as well as coordinating the efforts of the movers they had hired to pack their belongings to be shipped to Australia and managing the hundred other miniscule details that unexpectedly come with moving. Bertram had spent the previous day arguing with the movers about insurance, price and, most importantly, precisely how they should pack his prized collection of Southampton football memorabilia. While Bertram was doing that, Valeria was watching the two children while finishing the last of the paperwork and sending letters off to their family with their new address. Once everything was packed and shipped off, the Grangers managed a few hours of sleep before the shuttle they booked arrived to pick them up, and here they were. Two days of travel ahead of them.

Jamie giggled across from his new parents as he and Hermione shared a picture book. Hermione couldn't yet read, but she loved to imitate her parents and sit down with a book. Harry would often point and ask "What that?!", and Hermione would do her best to answer. Valeria hoped that the stock of books they had brought would keep the children mostly entertained for the next 48 hours of traveling, but she was not optimistic. Jamie would get fidgety and want to move around after an hour or two of sitting still, and Hermione would get upset that Jamie was upset, and then they'd both cry until someone could figure out how to calm them down. Valeria was not looking forward to entertaining children, lugging suitcases and searching for paperwork all the way to Australia but at least her husband would help, and they could probably trade off getting some sleep along the way. She really wished that they had more experience with this kind of thing, but neither she nor Bertram had traveled internationally before, so they didn't really know what they were doing. She hoped it all worked out okay in the end.

~~~~~~~~~~ Y ~~~~~~~~~~

The Changi airport was bustling as the Grangers stepped off the jetway. They had been traveling for well over a day, and were beyond exhausted. The children had quickly gotten bored and started crying in frustration, and barely a few hours into the trip, their parents felt like joining them. The airport was lush and full of greenery, but the exhausted Grangers just couldn't find the energy to take in any of it.

Neither Bertram nor Valeria had gotten a wink of sleep, and they were starting to break under the stress. Fortunately, they found a playground for the children near their gate where they set Jamie and Hermione loose in the toddlers section to burn off energy with the other children while they settled into a nearby bench to rest and regain some semblance of equilibrium.

After a few minutes of blissful silence, Valeria turned to her husband with a wide-eyed, slightly unhinged gaze "What are we doing, Bertie?"

Bertram startled out of sleep and responded blearily, "What do you mean dear?"

"What are we doing? Just two months ago, we were happily settled raising our daughter and working towards setting up our own practice. Now we're on this ridiculous journey to Australia! We don't know anyone there! We have no family! No friends! This is insane! All we have is the word of a crazy old crackpot who has promised us that it's all going to work out. And we adopted Jamie. We were having enough trouble with Hermione's outbursts. If that old man was lying to us, I don't know what we'll do! We might never have our own practice!" Valeria still had the presence of mind to not yell loudly enough to attract attention, but the stress of the trip and insufficient sleep were creating a potent mixture of self-doubt and insecurity.

"Val, calm down. We've talked about this move several times over the past two months. We always decided we were doing the right thing before now." Bertram yawned. He couldn't really think logically at the moment. He was just too tired.

"I can't imagine what we were thinking! We know almost nothing about living in Australia - it's another country, one originally populated by criminals and barbarians!"

Bertram roused himself enough to turn his head and look his wife in the eye. "Valeria, it's going to be okay. We'll learn how to live in Australia. It can't be that different; we'll figure out the details when we get there. You're just tired and can't think straight. I can't either, but that's besides the point. Let's get some sleep before the children wake up, and if you still want to meltdown when we wake up, we can figure out what to do then."

He pulled Valeria onto his lap and her mutterings slowed as she fell asleep. Bertram breathed a sigh of relief and let himself follow her in the instant too tired to remember the two toddlers at play.

~~~~~~~~~~ Y ~~~~~~~~~~

Upon their arrival at their new home, Valeria swore loudly that they were never moving again. They had been traveling for nearly two days, she had a breakdown, and to top it all off, Jamie and Hermione had wandered off into the Changi airport butterfly garden while she and her husband were napping. They had spent thirty minutes madly searching for them, eventually finding them with airport personnel who returned the children with a distinctly disapproving gaze.

Their belongings had not yet arrived, and they were desperate for sleep, so they rang up Bathilda and dropped the children off with her before they pulled all of their clothing from their suitcases into a makeshift bed and fell into blissful sleep for the next 20 hours.

Upon the arrival of their belongings, Bertram swore loudly that they were never moving again. Several of their glass items had broken, they were missing no less than three packages, several irreplaceable pieces of Southampton memorabilia had gotten scuffed up, and one of the boxes had contained a very displeased kitten which the delivery company refused to take back since it had already been signed for.

But, they had arrived, and the worst was over. The terrors of travel were at a close, and their new life could begin, hopefully with a great deal less stress than the past couple few months.

~~~~~~~~~~ Y ~~~~~~~~~~

**A/N: We're starting to close out the opening of the story, and the meat of the story will be starting in the next few chapters. Let us know in a review if you have any interesting ideas you'd like to see. We're always open to suggestions. :)**

**Mr. Darcy**


	7. Burgeoning Bedlam

A/N: I apologize in advance for the shorter chapter but Mr. Darcy and I had a bit of a misunderstanding and by the time we realized it, I had an exam looming on the near horizon. The next one will be longer, and is already in the works. :) This chapter is mostly for laughs, but we've hidden a few details that will become relevant in the future. Enjoy!

Lady Beatrice

Chapter 6: Burgeoning Bedlam

It had taken Bertram and Valeria a week to finish moving in and unpacking what remained of their belongings. They had discussed what they should do with the unexpected kitten, and their first thought was giving it to the local animal shelter; but Valeria had always wanted a cat and since none of the family was allergic, they decided to keep the pet in celebration of a successful move. After all, if it turned out to be too much work, then they could always change their mind. They named him Bedlam, after the circumstances in which they acquired him, and Jamie and Hermione helped pick out a little cat bed with a litterbox, which they set up in the corner of the kitchen.

It was 8 o'clock in the morning, and the Granger family was eating breakfast when there was a loud crackling noise from behind them and they all jumped. A big red bird had just appeared in their living room in a burst of flames that had mildly scorched their ceiling and set the wooden chair he landed on ablaze. Bertram fell back in surprise, while Valeria rushed to get a fire extinguisher for the chair. The children were safely seated in flame retardant high chairs on the other side of the table, ogling the amazing mess that was being created. After putting the fire out, Bertram examined the strange bird more closely. He didn't seem to be doing anything dangerous now, but Valeria still had the fire extinguisher ready just in case. Bertram noticed a metal tube tied to the bird's foot and carefully reached for it. When it didn't attack him, he untied the tube from his foot and twisted the top off. Inside was a letter addressed to him and Valeria from Albus Dumbledore.

Sighing, Bertram opened the letter and began to read.

_Bertram and Valeria,_

_I hope you've gotten settled in. I'd like to introduce you to my friend Fawkes, the phoenix. He has graciously agreed to help us communicate covertly and will ferry letters back and forth between us. If you ever need to send anything to me, just call out for him. I've had Bathilda discretely add a ward to your home that will allow him to hear you._

_Best wishes,_

_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore._

_P.S Don't be surprised if Fawkes occasionally brings you a copy of the wizarding newspaper, The Daily Prophet. It's his favourite reading material, and he loves to share._

_P.P.S. I hope he didn't catch anything on fire when he arrived. His flames can be quite energetic when he's travelling internationally._

Fawkes warbled a string of elegant music, and Bertram got the sense that he was both sorry and slightly embarrassed about setting their house on fire. Bertram sighed and gave the phoenix a pat on the head before passing the note to his wife and heading to the office to find a pen and stationery to write the aging headmaster a response.

~~~~~~~~~~ Y ~~~~~~~~~~

Bertram dashed into his living room panting and slammed the door behind him barely escaping the scratching claws of the beast on the other side. He could hear it vainly scraping at the door attempting to get at him, but he had dragged a chair to prop against the door before collapsing on the ground to catch his breath. Bertram had survived encounters with this beast before, but it was persistent and had returned to take revenge for its past humiliation. Bertram thought back to the beginning of the situation and wondered where it had all gone wrong.

It all started with Bedlam. After a few months with their new acquisition, the Grangers had noticed that he was starting to grow quite large; much larger and much more rapidly than they would expect from the average housecat. He also had a tendency to chow down on any raw meat that had been left on the counter to thaw for dinner and become rather aggressive when Valeria tried to pick him up. She had been scratched more than once before she had sadly given up.

Deciding that the cat's unusual behavior warranted some research, Bertram and Valeria had taken a trip to the Darwin Public Library one evening for some in-depth research into feline fundamentals. They were most perturbed when they discovered that their harmless little kitten was actually an adolescent bobcat based on it's light blue eyes and fetchingly speckled tan and brown fur. Upon discovering this, both parents decided Bedlam had to go. They weren't equipped to raise a bobcat, and they were already busy enough with getting their practice started as well as taking care o f their children. Who puts a bobcat in a package anyway!?

A few phone calls later, and the local wildlife control team had arrived to take Bedlam off their hands. They were both thankful to see the end of it. Unfortunately, a few days later, while he was walking up his driveway after a short trip to the store, Bertram had been jumped by a very familiar bobcat. Bedlam had obviously escaped captivity, and it was clear that he was not pleased with the Grangers attempt to pass him off. Bertram had been heavily scratched, but he had managed to land a solid blow on Bedlam, giving him enough time to dash into the living room and block the main door with a chair. Eventually, the incessant scratching at the door slowed down, and Bertram heard a growl through it. He was quite glad for the thick door between him and the angry beast on the other side.

He heard Bedlam wander off and was about to breath a sigh of relief at the close encounter when there was a loud crash from upstairs. Bertram's eyes widened as he remembered that he was not the only person in the house. He heard the cat growl, and before he knew what he was doing, Bertram had grabbed the cast iron perch he had purchased for Fawkes after one incident where the phoenix had set his hair on fire and rushed out to defend the children from the marauding bobcat. Seeing that the bobcat wasn't in the upstairs hallway, Bertram dashed to the children's playroom. Hearing a scream and fearing the worst, Bertram jumped around the corner hoping he would be able to save at least one of them. What he saw astonished him so much that he dropped Fawkes' perch on his foot and barely managed to hold in his yell of pain.

Mayhem was licking Hermione affectionately with his tongue, and the ticklish girl was the one whose screams he had heard. Jamie, on the other hand, was currently on the bobcat's back, giggling as he was occasionally bucked around, the blocks they had knocked over long forgotten in the face of a much more interesting playmate. Bertram limped forward, but the bobcat looked at him and growled menacingly. Challenging the bobcat with the children so nearby probably was _not_ a good idea. He limped over to the nearest phone to ring Bathilda. If he couldn't handle this, maybe a bit of magic would do the job.

Upon her arrival, he showed her the children's playroom, where Bedlam was now carrying Jamie around in his teeth by the back of the boy's shirt while Hermione had taken his place on the Bobcat's back. Not knowing what to think of the situation, Bathilda spent a few minutes checking for magical interference and found that the bobcat had been charmed. Taking a closer look, she recognized the charm as being similar to one she had encountered while teaching at Hogwarts.

"We very lucky today, Bertram. It seemed as though Jamie or Hermione will cast a very subtle accidental magic on Bedlam. The Care of Magical Creatures professor while I am at Hogwarts uses a charm similar to this one on the more violent animals when he brought into class. It make animals very friendly to the caster. It's a little crude in this case, but it's definitely why Bedlam being so friendly."

Bertram sighed. "If that's the case, why wasn't the Australian magical community here to look for the source of the magic weeks ago when it must have happened? You said they'd show up to introduce us at the first sign of accidental magic."

Bathila shook her head. "Too little magic, my guess. If it take me several minutes to find the magic, there be no way the detectors picked something that small up."

Bertram looked at her agast. "Small?!" Bertram sighed again, "Nevermind. What do we do now? Val and I agreed that it's makes for a safer relocation if we pretend we don't know anything about magic, but we can hardly keep a bobcat around without giving it away either. We tried to get rid of him, but he just came back…."

Bathilda thought for a moment as Bedlam swung Jamie around in his jaws, "I'm not sure I had good news for you, but since Jamie and Hermione seeming to be safe, let's gone and get you patch up. Those scratches looking nasty, and limping is no good sign."

Once they sat down and Bathilda had healed the worse of the scratches and reduced the swelling in his foot, Bathilda explained that the charm was likely permanent, and as a result, the bobcat would never attack either of the children. However, the crux of the issue was that, despite the fact that bobcats were notoriously bad pets based on what the Grangers parents had researched, this one would never want to live far from the children for as long as the charm was in place. Since only the caster could remove it and neither child would be competent enough to do so for a long time, the only solutions were either to kill the bobcat, which neither of them were comfortable with, or find some way to work it out.

While they were talking, Valeria returned from their dentistry office and she was filled in on why Bathilda and her husband were discussing keeping a bobcat after she checked in on the children to see for herself that they were alright. They decided Bathilda should cast a muggle notice-me-not charm and a charm to prevent Bedlam from attacking humans before allowing him to hunt for his own food in the suburbs. There were plenty of rabbits and rodents in the area, and it would let him be independent like bobcats needed to be, while still letting him visit the children.

That night, as they got ready for bed, Bertram and Valeria sighed, and wondered what other strange things they would encounter with two magic children. Since their introduction to the magical world, they had moved across the world, had their furniture set on fire by a phoenix, and had their children magically tame a bobcat which they had accidentally obtained while moving. They wondered what other magical strangeness was awaiting them as they raised Jamie and Hermione.

A/N: The idea for Bedlam was borrowed from a cartoon strip both Mr. Darcy and I share a fondness for. Guesses welcome when you review; we'll let you know in a future chapter. ;)

Lady Beatrice


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